BEREA, Ohio—It wasn’t an eternity ago. It was just this year when Trent Richardson was a college kid having the time of his life.

He was the little big man on an Alabama campus that stayed warm all winter from beating LSU on Jan. 9 in the national title game. Richardson had just one season to prove he was worthy of replacing former Heisman Trophy winner Mark Ingram at running back, and the dreadlocked dynamo delivered big time.

Then he decided to go to work. He has been at it for a while now, finding out pro ball is serious business, that odd things happen, and that the NFL can fluctuate wildly from nirvana to no fun at all.

“Sometimes it’s frustrating and you get upset,” Richardson, the No. 3 overall pick in April’s draft, admitted the other day.

Sometimes you score touchdowns amid that rarest of Lake Erie sightings, a winning streak, as the 5-foot-9, 225-pound Richardson did against the Steelers and Raiders. Sometimes that doesn’t matter.

The Browns have been adrift since an 0-5 start. His inability to instantly restore the old running-game magic that marked the glory days of the Cleveland franchise was a reason for the bad start.

A general sense remains that he might yet be great, but whereas instant stardom occasionally has come to other rookie backs, such as Adrian Peterson in 2007 and Doug Martin this year, it isn’t happening for Richardson.

Sure, Richardson made Jim Brown eat his words in Week 8 with a 122-yard rushing game against San Diego, which then had the league’s No. 1-ranked run defense. Last April, the Cleveland legend said Richardson was "ordinary."

In the locker room afterward, Brown said, “To play that way says a lot for his heart and it says a lot for his talent. He’s showing everybody he can run the ball and break tackles. He has the movements, the body strength, the low center of gravity. It’s all there.”

Yet, Richardson hasn’t been all there in four subsequent games, averaging a respectable 89.2 rushing yards a game, but at troublesome 3.6 yards a carry, which also is his season average. He’s getting a ton of chances, but he can’t buy a thrill. He doesn’t have a run as long as 20 yards in more than a month.

He seems to be coping. He says he handles his hard days at the office by going home and hugging his kids.

He and his girlfriend, Sevina, have three children. The first was born when they lived in Pensacola, Fla., and he was a student at Escambia High School, best known as Emmitt Smith’s alma mater. She was pregnant when Richardson was drafted. Their first son was born in October.

“After I go home,” he said, “I don’t have time to do anything other than be a dad and get back into my playbook and watch tape.”

Responsibility? Richardson, 21, has as many children as his 56-year-old offensive coordinator, Brad Childress, who has been patient with his prodigy.

“He’s going to be a very good player in this league,” Childress says, “and he’s going to be a very good player for a very long time.”

Richardson has been fighting injuries since his time in Tuscaloosa. He underwent arthroscopic knee surgeries in February and August. He took a vicious shot to his upper body in October that has literally stuck to his ribs in the month-plus since.

At Alabama, he established himself as a marvelous combination of power, speed, burst and moves. He could run over a linebacker for the tough yards. He could get outside and break a long one. He could catch the ball and go.

The Browns liked him so much that they traded up from No. 4 to No. 3 to get him.

He has shown glimpses of stardom, but the anticipated magic has eluded him.

Through 11 games, both he and 49ers mainstay Frank Gore had 1,117 yards from scrimmage, but that’s because he touches the ball a lot more. Gore averages 5.4 yards per rushing-receiving touch to Richardson’s 4.3.

Richardson leads the Browns with 44 receptions, but his 7.7 average is nothing special.

Richardson hoped he would be his old self after the bye week, but a heavy workload has subjected him to pounding that has kept him playing sore.

“I’m still not feeling 100 percent,” Richardson said. “It will probably take the offseason.”

Does he think he will find that magic when his body is right again?

“Most definitely,” Richardson said. “When it happens, I can’t wait to be on the field and explode.”

Cincinnati coach Marvin Lewis gets the feeling he has seen Richardson before.

“He’s a very hard-running player,” Lewis said. “He’s got great ability and great strength in his legs and lower body. You’re going to really have to wrap up and tackle him. He’ll remind you a lot of Jamal Lewis.”

In 2000, Jamal Lewis was drafted at No. 5 overall by Baltimore, where Marvin Lewis was defensive coordinator.

“You can’t look at stats,” Richardson said the other day. “You can’t look at any of that stuff. I never look at stats. I never judge a defense from the films or from what they have done in the past. I just wait until I get out there and see what I can get.”

You can look at Richardson. Through Sunday’s game at Oakland, you see a super-high pick getting stopped too easily. You wait. You wonder if the future holds much more.